Winter Winds
by Nanabug
Summary: Post-Avengers 2shot, Human!Loki. Slight Frostiron. ((I apologise to those I lied to in saying that I would continue this. Let's just say it's open-ended.))
1. In Which Something is Found

It's almost two months later, and a twinge of alarm passes through Tony. Thor had informed them all – with a piteous expression that hardly seemed real – of his brother's punishment: stripped of divinity and exiled to 'Midgard'. But it wasn't as if any of them expected to run across him in the middle of grocery shopping, or a walk in the park. So when he glimpses the ex-god, hunched over and hiding in some hoodie/peacoat hybrid, slipping into what has to be the shittiest-looking café Tony has ever seen, the instinct to confront him is nearly overwhelming.

He doesn't, though. He just stops, and watches, as Loki creeps down the street with a little paper bag from the café and rounds the corner, looking like anyone else in the hard cold city. It's the strangest feeling in the world, seeing a former force of evil, the adversary, become a _person_. Tony wonders if it's even possible.

He doesn't say anything to the others. That would only cause trouble; it's not as if Loki poses any more threat. What would even be the point, bothering him now- he's just as human as any of them, if not even more so.

But Tony does go back. Watches Loki's routine, every Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday. Enter dingy café, exit four minutes later. He finds out where Loki's been living, in the limited sense of the word 'living' that applies to this state of monotony. It's fascinating, really. Tony watches him meld into the world, and slowly his face becomes less and less that of the power-hungry villain he once fought, and more and more an ordinary, hopeless man.

He looks ill, completely broken. He talks to no one, keeps his head down and his hood up. It's not as if Tony can really blame him.

Tony can't resist it one day. He goes up to Loki in front of the café, not even sure what he's going to say. 'I'm sorry'? Uh-huh. Right. Not like it matters; as soon as Loki recognises him, his eyes widen in shock (_not terror not terror not terror_), and he hurries down the street.

He doesn't return to the café after that.

Tony wants- no, he _should_. He should tell Pepper. He doesn't want to tell anyone. Loki is his own secret Easter egg, and he doesn't want to share. _He's_ the one who made the discovery, not them, and this is his escape from the big dumb world- coming to watch the elusive and rare ex-god in its man-made habitat. It's alarmingly possessive at first, but eventually he figures this is like every other shiny new thing he's come across; it's fascinating, it's confusing, and it's undeniably, inexplicably beautiful.

Instead, he finds a new place to watch from, closer to Loki's apartment. Loki seems to have adapted to human ways far more easily than Thor had done, although it's not completely surprising, he having at least visited before and surely studied the race.

Tony's almost become tired of studying Loki's patterns by the time anything happens. It's slightly colder and foggier than the previous morning. Loki's just left; he crosses the first few streets before the library, his new regular destination. On the third street, without warning, he changes.

Not in form, or general appearance; something in his eyes and posture shifts. He stops, and drops his shoulders, and turns to the oncoming vehicles. A look, a momentary expression of raw human fear, marrs his face before morphing into resignation. He stands a little straighter, opens his eyes wide, and turns his palms forward. His feet, and his clenched jaw, spill the message, "_Grand finale_" into the air around him.

Before Tony knows exactly what's happening, he's sprinting from the dark doorway he stood in, pushing off the curb, pushing himself into the road. The world rushes past his face and his ears until there's nothing around him except for Loki, standing in the middle of the crosswalk, waiting for an end, an escape.

He smashes headlong into Loki's thin form, which gives instantly. They both tumble and roll across the street until Tony's back is pressed to the curb, gutter mud soaking into his jacket. He struggles to his feet, pulling Loki with him, and steps backward once. Blue eyes, clouded with confusion and sunken with fatigue, bore inquiringly into Tony's, seeking answers. Tony has none, not even for himself. As Loki tenses, possibly to run, Tony shuts his mouth firmly, and wordlessly grabs Loki's coat and drags him down the street.

As soon as he's sure Loki isn't going to bolt, Tony lets go and leads the way home.

He steers Loki inside and waves towards the couch. Silently and stiffly, Loki sinks onto the cushion. His eyes scan the room, taking in every detail of his surroundings. Tony slips into the kitchen for a few minutes, his hands mindlessly moving bowls, opening tupperware, pressing buttons. When he returns, Loki's removed his scarf and coat, his head leaned to the side and his eyes lightly closed. He sits upright when Tony sets a mug and soup of mysterious content on the coffee table.

As Tony sits across from him, he eyes the soup and takes a miniscule sip of the bitter black coffee. He subtly makes a face at the flavor, and sets it delicately back on the table with a trace of familiar haughtiness. Tony almost laughs at that; it figures Thor and his 'brother' would be polar opposites on small matters as well.

They sit in uncomfortable silence for a while, until Tony clears his throat awkwardly.

"So... you've got a sort of thing for green then?" He gestures at Loki's shirt. It's a poor attempt at small talk, but he has to say _something_.

"Wh- It... reminds me of who I was," Loki mumbles, looking away. His voice is thin and curt, but just as smooth as ever before.

"What, and that's a good thing?"

Loki scowls, but it's accompanied by a flash of pain. Tony mentally slaps himself. The man across from him is completely broken; no need to kick at the pieces.

_Sorry, _he wants to mutter, _I didn't think_. But he doesn't, and Loki says nothing either. Finally, the other stands, mutters something barely distinguishable about hospitality, goes to the door, and, hands in his pockets, leaves.

Tony curses under his breath. He knows he should have said something, but really, what could he have done?

The black of Loki's coat and scarf, draped over the arm of the couch, catches his eye. There's an excuse to go find him again, anyway. Tony's not sure why, but he feels like he's got to go fix what he said.

But Loki's not at the library the next morning. Tony spends most of the day sitting inside there and staring out at the fog, the trash, the _people_. For such a supposedly interconnected species, humans really are so blind to everyone around them. Nobody knows why that woman parked over there is crying. No one understands what made the boy on the corner chuckle all of a sudden. Nobody sees that the man in the forest-green shirt is so shattered and he can't even end it all, that the bearded guy on the stool beside them is the one they cheered for on TV months ago.

The whole world is just so... oblivious.

And when Tony sees, out of the corner of his eye, the blur of black, and green, and pale skin slide onto the stool to his right, he doesn't even know why he's not surprised. He only holds out the coat and scarf, tidily folded, without a word. Loki looks startled for a moment, as if he hadn't even realised they were missing. It's not that, though; it's the idea that Tony brought them for him. He knows what he's worth to the world , and he knows what the majority of the human race thinks of him. And for a moment, what's going through his head is obvious: that he should have known Tony Stark wouldn't care.


	2. In Which Something is Decided

"You should try blue."

Loki starts at the voice by his ear.

Anthony Stark has sneaked up on him again. His senses are not so finely-tuned as they once were; one of the many things he lost upon his Fall.

"I beg your pardon?" He attempts to give Stark a disdainful look.

... It may, however, have simply turned out confused.

"Blue. Blue clothes, shirts. Make your eyes more..." Tony gestures vaguely at Loki's face. "Anyway." he mumbles, sitting down across the table. The books are stacked so high on the tabletop that he almost disappears behind them. "Are you gonna read all of these?"

"No."

"Then what-"

"Those are the ones I've already read."

"_Today?_"

Loki looks up exasperatedly from _Pillars of the Earth_.

"No, I've been living in the library and I started a collection. Of course _today_, why would that be so shocking?"

"Nope, never mind." Tony raises his eyebrows and looks away. "Magic Asgardian reading skills, nothing."

"... Not exactly," Loki replies, staring levelly at him.

They sit like that for some time until Loki goes back to his novel.

Tony drums his fingers on the table awkwardly as Loki burns his way through two more paperbacks.

"... Why are you here, Anthony Stark?"

He looks up to see Loki watching him over the stacks of books.

_To stalk you._

"To bother you." An adequately self-assured answer, hopefully.

Loki snorts delicately. "And what a fine job you're doing. However, you misunderstand. That is what you are here to do, not why you are here."

_Because you're fascinating._

"Because you're easy to annoy. You do realise how tempting a target you make?" It's not really a lie, just... the wrong truth.

Loki can tell that's not exactly right; but it's impossible to see Stark's real answers. Even his eyes refuse to lay bare the truth that's so easy to find in others'. What is it that makes him different?

Tony can practically see Loki pulling him apart piece by piece, dissecting and analysing. He waits with bated breath, as Loki appears to _stare into his fucking soul_, and the silence steadily grows more and more awkward; and he stares right back.

**Observation:** Skin no longer merely nobly pale, but unhealthily gaunt. Thinner than before; dejected slump to shoulders once held stiff with pride. Loss of pigment in eyes; irises have gone from pale turquoise to greyish-blue.

**Analysis:** Unwillingness to eat; possible illness as a result of emotional shock. Lack of physical exertion or social contact. Clinical depression.

The man in front of him is a tear-stained shadow of the ambitious villain from three months ago.

**Suggested procedure:** Gauge reaction by attempting to elicit emotional response. Stimulate humanity. Establish relations.

The pieces of the old, jealous, cracked Loki Laufeyson have been knocked apart. Tony wants to take them all and fit them back together in a pattern even more beautiful than before.


End file.
